


Meringue

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 16:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15053480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Elrond finds Lindir ready for tea.





	Meringue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Epoxide (MiyuTanemura)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiyuTanemura/gifts).



> A/N: Happy belated Birthday, my beloved Epoxide! She asked for: “lindir baking a cake and elrond eating it and inviting him and all the cuteness”.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

While Lindir is never late nor absent from his duties, he is active enough that it can be difficult, at times, to place him. As Elrond’s loyal assistant, he helps oversee everything from the guard’s schedules to the washing of linens. Usually, Elrond will simply wait for Lindir to return to him in between tasks, as Lindir almost invariably does, but every so often, the wait will be too long, and Elrond will take up the pursuit himself.

It’s a poor day outside at the moment, but that actually helps matters—the steady rain will make it unlikely that Lindir’s checking anything about the gardens, and thus Elrond only has to pace his halls. He asks most of those he passes if they’ve seen his Lindir, but all answer ‘no,’ and some of the more recent guests seem not to know who Lindir even is. Sometimes Elrond considers it a pity that his studious but quiet assistant seems to go so wholly unappreciated. Other times, he guiltily enjoys having Lindir all to himself, and Lindir always seems quite content with Elrond’s praise alone.

When he passes Glorfindel, he’s offered a formal search, but of course, it’s nothing so pressing. Elrond has every confidence that they’ll find one another well before nightfall, and even if they don’t, they’ll have each other then. Besides, it’s gotten to the point where he barely remembers the reason to find Lindir in the first place. Then he passes by a doorway that leads down to the kitchens, and the rich scent of freshly baked bread and sugar momentarily distracts him.

He follows the pleasant odor down the twisted staircase, and on the bottom level, he searches the kitchens. Much of it is more stone than the surrounding wood of the other buildings, and there are many archways out into the lawn, for days when a breeze becomes necessary to counteract the oven. A few of the chefs are about, but it’s a slow time of day, and most are off. 

Elrond finds both the source of the good smell and his treasured prize in one place—tucked away towards the back on a little counter. Lightly humming a wistful tune as he goes, Lindir paints a delicate lattice of flowers along a yellow cake. When Elrond’s footsteps come close enough, Lindir pauses, glancing over his shoulder.

He smiles at Elrond, shy but beautiful, and lowers his bag of icing. Up close, the delicious scent is almost overpowering. Elrond comes to stop just next to Lindir, close enough to touch, and drinks it all in.

Then he murmurs, “That looks lovely.”

“It is for you, my lord,” Lindir offers, which doesn’t surprise Elrond in the slightest, though he wishes it would. Lindir is the sweeter one, and he deserves desserts for only himself. But he dedicates so very much of himself to Elrond, and Elrond can only smile gratefully. “Something sweet to complement your tea.”

Elrond internally chides himself for forgetting that; more often than not, Lindir reappears for teatime. He asks, “What is the occasion?”

Lindir hesitates, glancing subtly around Elrond. He must deem the other workers sufficiently far enough away, because he glances up to Elrond and admits, “None. I simply love you.”

Having lived for many centuries, Elrond has often been told that he’s mellowed down to nothing—that he’s hardly expressive and far too subtle. But for Lindir, he beams. He can’t resist leaning forward to place a chaste kiss against Lindir’s forehead, and he lets his fingers trail through the dark hair spilling down Lindir’s shoulders as he leaves. Lindir returns the look with equal adoration.

After a tender moment of only that, Lindir reports, “It is almost finished. I will take it right up to you when it is so.” 

“To _both_ of us,” Elrond corrects, though he can see the protest already bubbling up in Lindir’s eyes.

“For _you_ ,” Lindir softly counters, until Elrond’s hand returns to his hair. Then his breath seems to catch and falter.

“You are cruel,” Elrond comments quietly, “to deny me the sweeter treat.”

A grin tugs at Lindir’s lips. He relents, nodding, though with his eyes averted, he does note, “It is not right for a lord and servant to take their tea together...”

“Yes it is right for two lovers to sit together and enjoy one another’s company.”

Lindir doesn’t argue again. Elrond hooks a finger beneath his chin and tilts him up, bending in to bring a gentle kiss. Despite their possible audience, Lindir acquiesces, and when Elrond parts them, he can see in Lindir’s flushed face that Lindir doesn’t want to go. 

But Lindir does. He always does his duties first. He returns to his selfless gift, the song returning to his lips, and Elrond stands and watches a new masterpiece unfold.


End file.
